Only a Day Away

To celebrate the new year that begins tomorrow:

A Year In Review

Yesterday I started thinking about my goals for the last year. What have I accomplished? What haven't I? What am I doing now that I wasn't doing at this time last year? Likewise, what was I doing then that I'm not doing now?

I wanted to have Cooper potty-trained by now. That hasn't happened. I've been talking it up to him, but he's not really interested. I'm okay with that. He'll do it when he's ready. Peter thinks he can tie his shoes and has therefore refused to actually learn how. So... not so successful there either.

Last year I had lots of projects going. I had made Bryan's blanket for Christmas and was crocheting a handful of items. This year I still have the pieces cut out for my own blanket, sitting in a bag in my closet, not sewn together at all. The afghan I started for my nephew is sitting, half-done, also in my closet.

It sounds like I've accomplished very little this year, doesn't it?

However, I can think of one major thing that I've done this year, one thing that makes up for all the stuff that is still sitting unfinished. And that one thing is very cute, plump, bright and smiley.

It's been a good year.

Handymen

Bryan found these two children's tool kits on clearance.

In January.

We hadn't originally planned to use them as Christmas presents, but since the boys had just gotten a bunch of new toys we decided to wait a little while before giving them out. A week turned into a month and a month turned into almost a year. Along the way we found two small tool boxes to house the fix-it-man treasures. Cooper has been walking around the house, suited-up in orange, singing the Bob the Builder theme song.

Happy Happy Birthday Grandma Dear

My Grandma Bonnie is turning 80 this week. In honor of her birthday, I'm posting my favorite thing she's written this year. She's been taking an online writing course and this was for one of her assignments.

CHILDHOOD MEMORIES

It is 1939 and I am eight years old. Mother, daddy and I are going to visit the old ranch where my grandparents live. It is located at the edge of town. The car turns off of San Antonio Avenue and on to a dirt, dusty, rut filled road and bumps along for a quarter of a mile before coming to the house.

The orange grove borders the road on either side. Every other row of trees has an irrigating ditch running between them. At the north end of each ditch is a cement standpipe that gushes water on watering day. The grove is well kept and for the most part weed free.

The yard around the house has two big eucalyptus trees. Eucalyptus trees shed their bark and it is hanging on the trunks in big, loose pieces, like a pealing sun burn. They are a hundred feet tall and untrimmed. The air is full of their smell. I love it. It smells like what mother rubs on my chest when I have a cold.

When I’m hungry I pick the biggest orange and dig into the bright, orange skin with my finger nails. It comes off in big chunks. I stick my thumb into the top of the orange and pull it apart. The juice runs off my hands and makes little tracks in the dirt. I pull the segments of orange off one at a time and savor the sweet flavor. It’s the best ever.

The yard has soft, warm, sandy dirt that is wonderful for bare feet. The chickens love it too. They make shallow holes and raise small dust clouds, while taking dirt baths.

We are living in the modern age, but this house must be one hundred years old. It has running water and gas lights, but no electricity. The bathroom is very large and I think it had been a bedroom before the house had inside pluming.

Good smells come from the kitchen. My grandmother is a wonderful cook. I love her red vegetable soup and cracklin corn bread. It has little pieces of pork rind in it, and is made into little flat cakes. They have a thick, brown crust and a flavor that begged for more.

At the side of the small living room is a stairway. It is very narrow and if two people meet one of them has to back up. It goes up to two bedrooms. Mom and Pop, my grandparents, sleep in one room and my two aunts, Bettie, age ten and Wanda, age twelve sleep in the other room. I love to stay overnight and sleep between them with my head at the foot of the bed.

Behind the house is an old barn. It is missing some of the side boards and has no doors. The sun light comes through holes in the roof. I can see dust floating lazily in the shafts of sun light. The goose and the chickens roost here and it is a good idea to watch where you step.

To keep the oranges from freezing in cold weather smudge pots are used. The pots have a round base three feet across and a smokestack three feet tall. They are filled with black oil and burned to warm the grove. It fills the air with black soot and the stink of burning oil. The pollution is awful!

Outside of the barn is an old wagon. It is missing the two back wheels, but it still has the seat the driver sat on to drive a team of horses. Under the seat is a large, empty, water barrel. Aunt Bettie and I use the wagon to play, “Going to California.” I drive the imaginary horses, while Bettie beats the water barrel, like a drum, and sings, Onward Christian Solders.

Whoever said, “You can’t go home again,” lacks imagination. I just did.

Operation Lighter Than Air

On Christmas Eve Uncle Isaac delivered one of this season's most popular gifts.

'Twas the Night Before Christmas

The gifts are all wrapped. The menu is in place. The cookies are baked. The cranberry sauce is made. The stockings are full. The green Jell-o salad has set.

And it's not even midnight.

Merry Christmas!

Miles To Go...

So, how has your week been? Good? How was my week, you ask?

Busy. Very, very busy.

So busy, in fact, that Bryan and I are staying up late tonight to try to finish everything that needs to be done before Saturday. Yes, it's currently 11:45 pm and I'm taking a break to eat a bowl of cereal before jumping back in.

You may wonder (or not wonder. But if not, why are you reading my blog?), "Why are you so busy? Haven't you been done with your Christmas shopping for weeks?"

Yes. And no.

We were done shopping for our little family. We knew my brother and his family were coming from Hawaii and I only had my nephew left to shop for. And then my Grandma passed away and plans changed. My parents, my other Grandma, my sister, and my youngest brother all came to stay at my house for the funeral and decided to stay for Christmas. It's wonderful, but it has made Christmas slightly more intense.

Because I hadn't been planning to see them on Christmas day, I didn't have presents for them. We usually call and wish people a Merry Christmas instead of sending gifts. That doesn't sound very nice, does it? I like it though. It's less stressful. Since we're all together, we've been trying to make sure that everyone has something to open on Christmas morning. Because there are so many people (fourteen) our Christmas tree looks like it's being eaten by red and green tissue paper.

It's mildly overwhelming.

How To Make a Snow Angel

Snow Day

Babies

The Sound of Music

My Grandma's funeral was today. It wasn't a sad event. I learned new things about her and recalled some sweet memories.

Music played a large role in the funeral. Two of my aunts sang solos and a third aunt played a piano solo. The final musical number was all seven granddaughters (myself included) singing "I Know That My Redeemer Lives" and it was beautiful. I had never sung with my cousins before today. Our blend was lovely. As one of them said during our rehearsal last night, "It's like we're related or something."

Music is definitely one of the legacies my Grandma left.

The Long and Winding Road

Would you let your five-year-old walk a mile to school, all by himself? This mom does and she was given a citation for child neglect because of it.

At what age is it okay to let your child walk to school alone? Would it be different if there were other children his age to walk with him? Does it depend on the route, busy streets vs. quiet ones?

What are your thoughts?

Santa's Digital Workshop

I thought a few weeks ago that we were done with our Christmas shopping for the boys. I realized this week that we've gotten the same things for the boys. In other words, we've purchased two of everything.

Because apparently we think Cooper is a carbon-copy of Peter.

It's tough because they play with the same toys all the time, so we just assume they like the same things. But I want to get at least one thing for each boy that is unique to them.

And so, I've spent many hours over the last few days on Amazon (our Christmas provider) looking at toys. Lots and lots of toys.

Maybe we'll just give them cash and let them pick out their own gifts.

It's Funny Because It's True

I'm seriously considering getting one of these for each of my boys.

Generations

In high school I had friends who had never met their grandparents or couldn't remember them. I had two grandmas and two grandpas. I even had a bonus grandma. My great-grandma, or Granny as she was known, was still keeping us on our toes with her sense of humor. I felt bad for my classmates who were missing out on having grandparents.

Today, I feel like one of those kids.

My Grandma Miriam passed away on Saturday night. In a way it was sudden, I wasn't aware of any illness she was suffering from until she was gone. But on the other hand, she was 87, and I guess death can't be called unexpected at that age.

I know that it's a wonderful thing for her. She's with my Grandpa again. She no longer has to deal with the effects of macular degeneration or hearing loss. She doesn't need a walker to get around or an assistant to write out birthday cards for her. This is a blessing.

And yet... I'm sad.

I only have one grandparent left.

As Bryan said yesterday, "It's been a tough time for grandmas."

It's been a tough time for grandchildren too.

Phenomenal Cosmic Powers

Do you ever wish you could move things with your mind? I was sitting here, thinking that I should write about how I let the boys decorate the Christmas tree this year, and that I really should take a picture of the tree in all it's sloppily-sweet glory to go along with the post.

But the camera is in the kitchen.

And I am not.

And so I thought, "I wish I could summon the camera and have it swoop in here by itself, because I'm tired and lazy."

That got me wondering, do other people dream about having bizarre and totally awesome powers? And if so, what would those powers be?

Let Your Light So Shine

When I was in high school my favorite passage of scripture was Matthew 5:14-16. I love the idea that we should let our light shine, be an example, and use the gifts and talents we have been given to glorify God. Light is a powerful concept for me. I recognize light in other people and, by the same token, can see when someone does not have light in their eyes. These scriptures were my mantra when I had to share my talents and was nervous. They reminded me that I had an obligation to let my light shine.

Fast forward ten years. It was August and I had decided to walk home from my job at BYU to our new apartment that was just off campus. It was very hot outside and I was a little more than halfway through my pregnancy with Peter. I had checked out a handful of baby name books from the library and was taking them home to see if Bryan and I could come up with a name for this baby.

Because we had decided not to find out if we were having a boy or a girl, we spent time looking at both sections in the name books. There are some truly terrible names in the world and we were amusing ourselves by finding them and reading them out loud to each other. Then we put the books away and just started throwing out all the names we could think of.

I said I liked the name Monica. I had been watching Friends on DVD, so Bryan joked that maybe we should name the baby Rachel. No, I said, Rachel is too popular right now. I paused to think, then added that I did like the name Phoebe.

Now Phoebe was definitely not my favorite character on the show Friends. (That would be Chandler, in case you were wondering.) But I did like her name.

We grabbed one of the books and looked up the meaning: bright and shining. The baby was due on Christmas Eve and when I saw the meaning of Phoebe I thought of the Christmas star and of Matthew 5:14-16. The meaning of a name is so important to me and Phoebe had a powerful meaning.

It was decided that if the baby was a girl we would name her Phoebe.

And then Peter came.

We found out Cooper was a boy during his ultrasound, so girl names were never kicked around.

When we found out we were having a girl, I struggled with her name. Bryan said he still liked Phoebe and Zoe and that we should go with one of those. But I wasn't sure. That's why I asked for suggestions. (I really liked quite a few of them, by the way, but I couldn't sell Bryan on them.) I still liked the name Phoebe, I just wasn't sure it was this baby's name.

When she was born Bryan looked at her and felt sure that her name was Phoebe. I still wasn't sure, but I did think there was something about her dark hair and round face that made her look like a Phoebe.

This weekend, after the baby blessing, Bryan's uncle was sitting in our living room, flipping through the baby name book my mom had bought for us when we were searching for Peter's name. I glanced over and saw the name Phoebe on the edge of the page. The meaning was slightly different than the one I had read in the other book. It said that Phoebe meant bringer of light.

At that moment the spirit whispered to me that we had made the right choice in naming our sweet girl Phoebe. That night, as I looked into her eyes before bedtime, I saw the light that she came with, radiating from her, still so fresh from our Heavenly Father's presence.

Yes, Phoebe is definitely a bringer of light.

A Man of Many Hats

Peter has discovered the joy of playing dress-up. When he was Cooper's age we had some friends that had lots of superhero costumes for their boys to wear. Peter went over to play a few times and absolutely refused to put on a cape. Or anything else resembling a costume. I'm not sure why.

Peter found part of my Halloween costume (which I still need to find a home for) and put it on. Peter is so tall and so articulate that I often forget how young he is. This picture reminds me. He looks little.

We have a box of hats that the boys like to put on during playtime. Until recently, however, they weren't used in a make-believe capacity, which is interesting because most of our play is of the imaginary sort. Lately though, I have had a whole host of characters visiting my house. We've had construction workers and train engineers and chefs stopping by. And a wizard.

I like it.

Say Cheese

Having family pictures taken is exhausting.

It's a good thing we're so pretty, or it might have taken even longer.

The First White Dress

Phoebe's baby blessing was yesterday. It was beautiful and very spiritual. Bryan did a wonderful job.

If you enlarge this one you'll see how blue her eyes are right now. I'm so used to all my brown-eyed boys, it still catches me off-guard that hers seem to be staying blue.

When Peter was blessed, my great-great aunt Bettie made him this sweater and afghan along with a bonnet, mittens, and booties. All three children have been wrapped in the afghan during their baby blessing. It's a nice tradition we have.

We were lucky to have some friends and family members here for the occasion. There were a few more that we didn't get pictures of. Despite the lack of photographic evidence, we are thankful they came!

Cooper and Phoebe have the same expression in this picture. They had almost the same look as one another in a different picture, but since they were both screaming at the time, I decided to go with this one instead. Good choice, no?

Civilization

This is the first song from a video game to be nominated for a Grammy. Bryan was really excited about it. It's the Lord's Prayer in Swahili.

Mirror, Mirror On the Wall

According to a new study, attractive people are more likely to have daughters than their homelier counterparts. I have two sons and one daughter. Are they calling me ugly?

What do you think about their findings? I'm very curious.

Sharing Time

Cooper loves to share. This is a good thing. It helps keep play time calm and happy (most of the time). It makes meals a game for the boys as they pass cereal between each other.

But sometimes, I encourage him not to share.

Peter went to sleep early again last night. (And woke up at one in the morning last night and the night before.) I had made pancakes in the morning and we ate them throughout the day. In the evening I grabbed a couple to eat as I fed Phoebe. I started munching on one and I put the other on a tray next to my big comfy chair.

Cooper walked into the middle of the living room, chewing something. I looked over at my pancake and saw it was missing a bite-sized piece.

Me: Cooper! Did you eat my pancake?

Cooper: Yeah. We are sharing!

I told him sharing your toys is good. Sharing your germs is not. Then I gave him my pancake.

This morning I caught him sharing the water out of my water bottle.

Apparently we're going to have to have that germ talk a few more times.

They Grow Up So Fast

I'm about to begin the process of packing away Phoebe's 0-3 month size clothing. I could probably squeeze her into them for the next week or so until she's actually three months old, but she wouldn't be very comfortable.

How did that happen so quickly?

When You're the Best of Friends

We're sick. Again. My brother asked me if it's normal to be sick as often as we've been this year. Probably not. Peter's been asleep since 5 this evening, and that's after taking a short nap this morning. Peter doesn't nap anymore, so that's a pretty good indication of how bad he feels.

This evening after Peter was in bed I gave Cooper a bath in an attempt to help him feel better. While he was getting ready to get in the tub, the following conversation took place.

Cooper: Mommy, I miss Peter.

Me: You do huh? He's your best friend, isn't he?

Cooper: Yeah, Peter's my best friend. And Daddy's my best friend. And you're my best friend. And Phoebe's my best friend too.

Me: You're my best friend too, Cooper.

School Spirit

Shawn the Sheep

This is from Peter's new favorite show. It amuses me.



Happy Thanksgiving!

Ticket to Ride

On Monday I was feeding Phoebe in the early morning, thinking I was the only awake person in my house, when I saw Cooper. He went shuffling from his room to mine, wearing the hood from a winter coat he can no longer fit into. It was not attached to the coat. And it was upside-down.


When I asked about it he told me it was his helmet. And, he informed me, since he had a helmet, he needed a motorcycle to go with it.

I don't think so, Middle Man.

Moving On

Bryan's Grandma Barbara passed away yesterday. We found out in the morning that she wasn't doing well, she had fluid on her lungs, and that we might want to go visit her. I talked to Bryan and we made a plan to go over after he got home from work for our Family Home Evening.

A short time later the message came that she had passed. Bryan's aunt and his cousin were there, holding her hands during her last two heartbeats. We gathered with some of the family afterward to discuss what had happened, what needed to happen to prepare for the funeral, and to remember Barbara.

Barbara was widowed in 1983. I found out that today is Bryan's grandpa's birthday. I think he and Barbara must be having a wonderful birthday celebration.

Hallelujah

I saw this on my friend's blog and thought it was, well, worth posting on my own blog.

Thanks Stephanie!

The Beginning of the End

The first semester Bryan and I were married we took a couples-only Ballroom dance class. It was a fun date every Friday night. I remember one Friday in November, our class finished early and we were driving around town looking for something else to do. We decided on a movie.

"Didn't that Harry Potter movie come out today?" one of us said.

"Yeah, but it's probably sold-out," came the reply.

We decided to check it out anyway. There were a few tickets still available and we snagged two of them. I had only read the first five chapters of the first book, so I had nothing to compare it to. But I liked the movie, I thought it was fun.

We enjoyed it so much that when the second movie came out we bought our opening-day tickets in advance.

For the third movie we went at midnight. This was the first Harry Potter movie I saw after having read the books. It's also my favorite film of the series.

We saw the fourth movie twice, two days in a row. Once on opening night. Then again on Saturday morning as part of a company-wide movie day from Bryan's employer.

The fifth was our first of the franchise to require a babysitter. Luckily, Bryan's sister lived nearby and stayed with Peter while we watched the Order of the Phoenix. This is my second favorite.

You can read my thoughts on the sixth movie here. We were in California and had the luxury of leaving Peter and Cooper with my parents while we saw an opening day showing, not at midnight, because we were no longer crazy.

We've seen every Harry Potter movie on opening day since the first one premiered.

Until today.

We do not have tickets for part one of the Deathly Hallows. Even if we did, we don't have a babysitter. I've never been comfortable taking a baby to a movie theater, and even if we had a babysitter, we couldn't leave Phoebe, at least I couldn't, she's still too little to be away from her food source for an extended period of time.

So today we're breaking our nine-year tradition. I'm a little sad, but I figure I'll feel the same way when I see it on DVD as I would after seeing it on the big screen. Maybe I'll sit really close to the screen and throw popcorn all over my floor, you know, to recreate the theater feeling at home.

Cold Feet

Bryan asked me to make a list of what I want for Christmas.

As I sat, holding my phone, ready to write a wish list and email it to him, I looked at my foot.

"Hmm," I thought, "I don't think I should be able to see quite so much of my foot while I'm wearing socks. Or any of my foot."

On the list? Socks.

You might say this means I'm boring. I prefer to think of myself as practical.

Either way, my feet will be warmer. And I'm a big fan of warm feet.

Life With Peter

This is surprisingly representative of how Peter has been lately.

Comic strip found here.

Nice and Chubby Baby

Phoebe had her two-month check-up last week. The first thing the doctor did when he walked in the room was to smile at Phoebe and say, "Well, you've never missed a meal, have you?"

It's true, she never has. And she is chubby in a cute-baby kind of way, but she is certainly not fat. She doesn't even hold a candle to my youngest brother; when he was a baby he looked like he had rubber bands around all of his joints. No, Phoebe is just nice and snugly.

People have asked us if it's different having a girl. Sometimes I want to answer by saying, "You realize that she's only two-months old, right?" But you know, there have been a few differences. She's far more verbal than the boys were at this age. That's a scary thing in light of how much the boys talk now. Could she grow up to talk even more than they do? I may never get the chance to speak again.

Another difference is with me and not her. I find that I'm more conscientious about what I say to her. I used to have no problem telling the boys I thought their giant heads were cute. With Phoebe I think I'm afraid of giving her a complex at some point in the future, so I don't say things like that.

The other big difference is that I spend a few extra minutes in the morning picking out her clothes. Little boy clothes are so much easier to match. Most of the pants come in solid colors so coordinating a shirt to a pair of pants isn't a big deal. Little girl clothes? There are flowers and hearts and polka dots and stripes and ruffles, on the shirts AND the pants. Those extra minutes are spent trying to figure out how on earth these things are supposed to go together.

A New Veteran's Day Tradition?

When you add a new member to your family, certain sacrifices have to be made to ensure that everyone's needs are met. Things fall by the wayside. Maybe the laundry doesn't get folded as quickly as it used to. Perhaps those trips to the park only happen once a week instead of once a day.

And maybe you carve pumpkins on Veteran's Day instead of on Halloween. The boys didn't seem to mind.
Peter drew a picture of what he wanted his to look like and Bryan did the carving. For Cooper's, Bryan asked him what shape he wanted each facial feature to be, which is why one eye is a heart and the other eye is a star. At least we know he knows his shapes, right?

Lead Me, Guide Me

The year that Peter turned two there was a four-year-old girl in our ward that memorized and beautifully delivered her whole minute-long talk for the Primary program. I was impressed. Afterward I asked her mom what the secret to such an articulate and intelligent child was. She laughed, shrugged her shoulders, and said that she didn't know, her daughter had just come that way.

I didn't buy it.

Earlier this week I walked into the kitchen to make dinner. We have a little rocking chair that all three of the kids have spent time in. I plopped Phoebe down, strapped her in, and proceeded to narrate my dinner preparations. When I looked back at her I saw that she had fixed her gaze on a toy that was attached to her chair. It was with great determination that she reached out her arm and grabbed that ladybug. I was shocked. Neither of the boys showed any interest in toys at two months old. But Phoebe saw something she wanted and got it.

She's determined about almost everything she does. When she wants to eat, she is incredibly persuasive. She smiles and coos for a few minutes, playing the cute-card. When that doesn't work, she turns on the tears. Then she just yells until she gets what she wants.

It appears that the number of strong-willed people in our house has increased by one, bringing us to a grand total of five out of five.

I know that Phoebe is awfully young to be pegging her into a personality hole, but I also recognize that these children come with personalities and talents already in place. Just as that mom said, they come this way. But there's a part missing. Yes, they do come this way, but parents play a huge role in guiding them. It's up to me to find out who they are, and help them discover what they can be. If my mom hadn't noticed that I had a nice singing voice when I was ten and taken me to be evaluated by a woman in our ward who sang, I wonder if my voice would be such a defining part of who I am. Would I have seen in myself what my mom saw?

I think that's one of the most exciting and the most scary parts of being a parent. What will your child become? How will they use what they have come with? How can I guide Phoebe and Peter and Cooper and help them channel that strong-will into something positive?

Maybe I came equipped too. Just as all three of my children came to this earth with ample servings of determination, perhaps I came with the tools I would need to be their mom. Maybe some of the gifts I was given before I came to this earth were to be Peter and Cooper and Phoebe's mom.

Silly Old Bear

Yes, two YouTube videos in a row. It's been that kind of week. Not bad, just long and full.

Bryan sent this to me this morning to show the boys.



I distinctly remember watching the first Winnie-the-Pooh movie while lying on my Grandma Bonnie's living room floor. Does anyone else have fond memories of watching the original Winnie-the-Pooh?

I've Had The Chorus of This Song Stuck In My Head Since I Titled Yesterday's Post

Lovely Lady Liberty

On our way home from Costco:

Peter: Mommy look! It's the Eiffel Tower!

Me: (glancing out the window at an ad for a New York themed sandwich shop) You know, that's actually the Statue of Liberty.

Peter: (laughing slightly at his mistake) Oh, that's right. I get those two confused because they were made by the same guy.

I told him that at some point. At least, I'm pretty sure I did...

This Is My Sixteeth Post With the Word Pumpkin In It

Bryan rearranged the freezer a few days ago (in an attempt to fit in more food storage stuff) and found my final cup of frozen pumpkin from last year's jack-o-lanterns. I figured a year was long enough and asked him to stick it in the fridge so I would remember to use it.

Since then I've been craving pumpkin cookies. I finally decided that we should make some and I went to find my favorite recipe, the one that I copied out of my Mom's cookbook when I went to college.

And it was gone.

It was then that I remembered that the last time I made these cookies (a few weeks ago) the page the recipe was written on had been about to break free from it's mooring. I guess I've loved that cookbook a little too much. After a quick (but understated) freak-out, I found the paper stuck inside a different cookbook.

It occurred to me that the best way to not lose the recipe again was to put it on the blog. And, bonus, that means I get to share it with you. I think everyone has a favorite pumpkin recipe (everyone that likes pumpkin at least) and this is mine. And according to what he said when I talked to him a few weeks ago, it's my brother's favorite too. My brother who makes ridiculously good cookies (or so I've heard) and loves to bake as much as I do, so that's saying something.

Pumpkin Cookies

Combine:

• 2 cups flour
• 1 tsp baking soda
• 1/4 tsp salt (I prefer kosher salt)
• 1 tsp cinnamon
• 1/4 tsp nutmeg

Set aside.

In a new bowl cream:

• 1/2 cup butter or margarine
• 3/4 cup honey (or 1 cup sugar if that's what you prefer)
• 1 tsp vanilla
• 1 cup pumpkin
• 1 cup raisins (if you're my brother) or chocolate chips (if you're Bryan)

Add dry ingredients to wet ingredients. Bake at 350 degrees for 15 minutes.

Oh, and according to my notes these cookies have 95 calories apiece, which means tonight I have consumed 475 calories in pumpkin cookie form. Maybe I should save the rest for another day...

A Few Final Thoughts on Halloween

We went to a Halloween party with some friends in our neighborhood a few days before the actual holiday. We decided to recycle our costumes from two years ago. Because sizes have changed and an addition has been made, the roles were recast.


Cooper was tickled to be Santa. He even obliged us with a few "ho ho hos." I thought the pipe cleaner fireworks coming out of Peter's hat were clever. Phoebe slept the entire party and only woke up when we got home and I tried to take her picture.


We did some prep work for our costumes on Halloween (or Halloween eve, because this is Utah, and nobody celebrates Halloween on Sunday). We sang songs from The Wizard of Oz and from Wicked. We read some of the history of the book The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. And finally, we read the book itself. It got intense in a few places (like when the Tin Man hacks the flying monkeys to pieces, yikes), but overall the boys enjoyed it. And bonus, that's what our book club is reading for November. You know, I really liked having costumes based in literature. I think I'd like to do it again. I wonder, what could we read and dress-up as next year?

One final festivity (not pumpkin carving, our gourds are still sitting whole on the counter, waiting) was making root beer. Bryan has fond memories of doing this when he was little. I had no idea that people made their own until I came to BYU, but apparently it's quite popular in Utah. The boys thought it was awesome. My favorite part? The scientific discussion about carbon dioxide that took place while the dry ice was melting. Yeah, that was sweet.

Somewhere Over the Rainbow

It didn't come in time for Halloween, but have no fear, she will still get some use out of this darling dress. It's so nice I think she could wear it to church. And it fits perfectly.

I love her hint of a smile.

Thank you for making these beautiful costumes Shari! I'm so thankful that you have skills, and that you're willing to share them.

King of the Forest

Look what finally got here!

I think this looks great. It's a hoodie, isn't that clever?


Dorothy pictures coming tomorrow...

Maestro Peter

Peter: (after singing our song for scripture study on Monday) Mommy, have you heard about the new thing in music?

Me: The new thing?

Peter: (excited) Yes. It's really cool. It's bigger than a crescendo and louder than a fortissimo. It's louder than a smoke detector. You have to scream it.

Me: Wow, that's really loud.

Peter: It's called fumtisimo.

Me: Fumtisimo?

Peter: (with certainty) Fumtisimo.

We're Off to See the Wizard

Do you remember the ruby slippers in this post? Well, those shoes were the inspiration for our Halloween costumes. Bryan's mom kindly agreed to make them. We agreed to let her.

And then the Post Office agreed to lose them.

Bummer, eh?

Luckily, Shari had found a Tin Man costume online at a major discount and had decided to order it instead of make it. Peter's costume is the only one that has arrived at our house so far. I have a picture on my cell phone of Cooper's very cute Cowardly Lion costume, but not one of Phoebe's very small Dorothy dress.

Hmm... this picture doesn't really look like Peter. Maybe silver makes his hair look yellow? He looked cute in real life, don't worry. And he had a heart to wear, it just got left off for the picture.

We were sad, but we found things that worked instead.

On Thursday Bryan mentioned to his coworker that the costumes were lost in the void and she mentioned that she had a size 3 lion costume and asked if he wanted to borrow it. Yes please.


I went to Phoebe's closet (or rather, the bar in my closet where her clothes are hanging) and brainstormed about what I could use for a Dorothy dress. The same sister-in-law that sent us the ruby slippers had sent Phoebe a darling blue and white dress. Hmmm... It wasn't gingham, but it was awfully cute, and I figured with the shoes and her Tin Man buddy and Lion pal, it should be clear who she was. So thank you Amanda, you furnished Phoebe's Halloween costume.

The shoes are still way too big, but we used them anyway.

You will have to just believe me that I was the Wicked Witch. We failed to get my picture. I was so busy figuring out the costumes for the small people that I decided not to paint my face green, I just wore all black. I did have a witch's hat on, and old-fashioned lace-up black boots, so that added to the disguise. Bryan suggested that I sing songs from Wicked as we Trick-or-Treated at his work, but I opted not to.

Bryan was going to be the Scarecrow, but we didn't pull it together in time. Instead he wore a Star Trek shirt I had gotten him for his birthday this year and pulled up the tricorder app on his phone. It was swell.

Our costumes didn't go quite the way we had planned, but we looked awesome anyway.

A Letter to the Inspector General

Dear United States Postal Service:

Where are our Halloween costumes? Do you know? Someone in one of your Texas offices told us they would be here on Wednesday. Today is Friday. They are not here.

Can this situation please be remedied?

Sincerely,

Kind of Sad That Our Awesome Costumes Got Lost in Transit

Putting First Things First

Today was a really good day.

I've been thinking about cuddling lately. Specifically, cuddling my children. We're a pretty snuggly bunch. I'm not often concerned about making sure the small people have enough affection, because it feels like I'm always kissing the tops of their heads and telling them I love them. But a few days ago I was watching the boys play and I had the thought pop into my head, "I wonder how much longer Peter will let me hold his hand while we walk? Or give him hugs in public? Or ask me to come play trains with him? Or spend time with him at all?" He's only four and still loves these things, but the fleeting nature of time suddenly seemed very real.

Phoebe gets lots of snuggling time since it's integral to her feeding process. And she's a baby, so I can't help wanting to hold her as much as physically possible. I cuddle with Cooper while I read and sing to him before nap time everyday, not to mention that he will often come and give me a hug and a kiss without any prompting. Peter though, he's been left out lately.

That same day that I saw a mental picture of Peter as a teenager who refuses to hug his mother, I prayed that I would be able to make time to spend with each child, time to hold them and listen to them and just be close.

Today I was able to have time like that with each one of them, one-on-one. Phoebe had amazingly long naps (I'm not sure why, but I'm oh-so thankful for it). This meant that I spent a little longer with Cooper during our pre-nap routine. And then I sat with Peter while the other two were sleeping. I also made a conscious effort to go and play with them or see what they were building or drawing or doing whenever they asked. I have a bad case of the just-a-minutes. "I'll be there in just a minute, Peter." "Yes Cooper, just let me finish this first." Today, I paused sweeping the breakfast crumbs, loading the dishwasher, gathering trash. I went in and spent time with the boys as they played.

I need to figure out a way to store these moments, like money in a bank, putting them away now so that later, when they won't sit next to me with their head on my shoulder, I can withdraw my deposits. Something like saving for a rainy day I suppose.

Mutant Carrots

This is what happens when you don't thin your carrots.



The whole carrot crop, waiting to be peeled and sliced.

The Stash

Back in May our Bishop challenged our whole ward to gather a three-month supply by the end of November. I thought it was a great thing and was totally on board. Then we got a little bit sidetracked:

• We spent the month of July looking for a place to live
• We used up most of August unpacking and dipped heavily into the food storage we already had
• We had a baby in September and thought little about, well, much of anything not related to the baby

Guess what? We're now a month away from the deadline. I've spent most of October making lists of meals we eat, reading recipes, recording how much of each ingredient we need for all the food items we would eat during a three-month span.

In truth, I've gone a little food storage batty.

This site has been particularly helpful, especially the Excel worksheet for tracking ingredients.

One of the biggest impediments to our gathering has been our lack of freezer space. We have what might possibly be the smallest freezer ever. It is attached to a full-size fridge (or so it appears, although the fridge is freakishly small as well), but it holds very little. Bryan and I have gone back and forth on the whole should-we-buy-a-bigger-freezer-to-stick-in-the-garage debate. For the moment I'm trying to figure out how to replace all the freezer items on our list with canned goods. It works alright for tortillas (once I finally buckle-down and learn how to make my own), but not so well for cheese. Or fish sticks. Or french fries. Or zucchini or broccoli. Any ideas?

I guess I have a few weeks to figure that out.

Teaching Moment

We had a full Saturday. We turned our house into a sauna by making and canning more applesauce, cleaned various rooms, and put up curtain rods and curtains. (That last one was mostly Bryan.) During a break in the domesticity I went into the boys' room to play with Peter. While there, a lesson in prayer was taught.

Peter: Mommy, I want to find the black train.

Me: (turning toward the box of train paraphernalia) Well let's see if we can find it.

Peter: Mommy, do you want to know one thing you can do when you're trying to find something? You can say a prayer.

And he did. He stopped his playing and folded his arms where he was and offered a prayer asking for help in finding his train. I turned back toward the box, moved a few train tracks aside, and spotted the black train. I pointed it out to Peter. He smiled and pulled it out.

It's wonderful for me to see Peter learning and putting to use the things that we've been teaching. I think this is what the scriptures mean when they talk about having child-like faith. He had faith in the power of that prayer to help him find his train. He had faith that Heavenly Father was listening.

I'm glad that I was there for him to teach me that lesson.

For the Grandmas, Part 4

Peter told me he wanted to read to Phoebe, so I grabbed the camera.

Cooper To The Rescue

Cooper: Mom, Peter's my friend.

Me: He is, huh? That's good.

Cooper: (matter-of-factly) I'm going to save him.

Me: (slightly surprised) You are? From what?

Peter: From harm.

Cooper: From nap time.

A Word Problem

One sick baby girl

+

One mom who has sat up at night holding said baby girl for almost a week so she can breathe

+

Two big brothers that don't slow down, ever

=

One very tired mom

Time to Stop Believin'

Oh Glee, what are you doing to me? I love your fabulous musical numbers and think that many of your characters are compelling. But recently, well, you've been making some poor choices. Your inappropriate moments have started turning into inappropriate scenes. The bad is outweighing the good.

I'm so conflicted over this. I love show choir, I love Broadway, I love it when people break out into song. I do not love immorality or the celebration thereof.

And so, Glee, I'm afraid we need to take a break. Maybe I'll still check out your musical numbers on YouTube, but I don't think I can devote my time or brain space to you anymore. And that makes me kind of sad.

Brave

I took all three of them to Wal-Mart today and nobody cried.

Not even me.

Yeah, that's a win.

Peter, Peter, Pumpkin Grower

Last week I kept having the thought that I needed to check on our garden. I'm afraid it's been severely neglected this year. On Saturday I stole away for what I thought would be ten minutes to see if we had any more tomatoes that were ripe.

I ended up being gone longer.

As I've said before, ours is one plot of many in a community garden. They're not locked up or closed off from the public. Anyone can walk through them that wants to. Sadly, someone walked through ours sometime in the last two weeks. Actually, they did more than walk.

First I noticed was that one of our Sugar Pumpkins was smashed. Then I saw that our tomato plants had been knocked over. The next thing I realized was that we were missing pumpkins. Nine pumpkins, all of them from Peter's miniature pumpkin vine that he had chosen to plant. In fact, none of his pumpkins were left. I spent a good deal of time searching through the vines making sure that I hadn't overlooked any of the small yellow squashes. I hadn't. It was only as I was leaving the garden that I realized my watermelon was missing too.

While I was bummed about my watermelon, I was much sadder about Peter's pumpkins. He's been watching them grow all summer, excited each time he discovered another one. As I stood in the garden, surveying the damage, I could picture Peter's reaction to his missing plants. I was sure there would be tears. I quickly picked all the tomatoes that could be saved, pulled all of our onions out of the ground, and steeled myself to tell Peter about the vandalism.

When I got home I told Bryan first. He agreed that we needed to tell Peter right away, so I called him out of his room and sat down on one of our dining room chairs so we were eye to eye. I took both of his hands in mine and I told him that someone had hurt our garden and that all of his pumpkins were gone.

At first he just looked at me with his big brown eyes. Then he asked a question I had no real answer for. "Why?" I told him I didn't know. He wanted to know if I had asked them why they had done it. He suggested telling them that we had been planning on making a pie. I said I hadn't seen the people that had done it, that I didn't know who it was, and that I had no way to ask why they had done that to our garden.

This is when I expected the tears to start flowing. But Peter is full of surprises. He was okay. He was sad, yes, but he wasn't heartbroken. And when I mentioned that maybe we could go to a pumpkin patch as a family to replace his pumpkins he got really excited. There were no tears, no consoling needed.

I think he set me a very good example.

Doting Big Brothers

Human Again

We have sick people at our house, hence the late-in-the-day posting. I'm the least sick and Bryan's the sickest. The three small people are all somewhere in the middle. Luckily, other than being mildly sniffly, Phoebe has been basically symptom-free.

One positive thing about Bryan being home sick is that I got to shower in the middle of the day and I now feel human again.

That's always a good thing.

False Advertising

Peter: (looking at the ads that came with Sunday's paper) Why are they selling kids?

Me: (in the next room and unable to see what he's looking at) What?! Wait...what?

Peter: In this ad. Why are they selling kids?

Me: Are you looking at the Toy R' Us ad?

Peter: Yeah.

Me: They're not selling kids. They're showing the kids using the toys. The toys are for sale.

Peter: No, right here, they're selling this kid.

And that is one reason Peter could never be a child model. He may be pretty enough, but he'd probably think we were trying to sell him.

Gotta Dance

Me: (watching as Cooper dances in his bedroom) What are you doing Cooper?

Cooper: Peter knocked over my toys, and so now I am dancing.

Well of course...

Miniture Golf by a Miniture Man

It worked! I'm pleased that the movie showed up on yesterday's post. Forgive me, but I'm going to try another one. This is a movie that Bryan took with his pho
ne way back in July. I had trouble getting this particular clip onto the blog before, so I'm going to try again. And besides, haven't you always wondered how Cooper played golf?



P.S. I have no idea why there's no sound.

Test

I haven't been able to post a movie on here for the last three months. This is a test post to see if anything shows up from the movie I took of Cooper.

Drawing a Blank

I sat at the computer for at least twenty minutes on Monday night, just staring. I had no idea what to write about. I spent time trying to find a funny clip to post from YouTube. Nothing.

I tried to access something from the far reaches of my brain that I've been pondering. Nothing.

I tried to think of something funny the boys had said recently.

Any guesses what I came up with?

That's right. Nothing.

I think I can officially state that I have a severe case of Mommy Brain. Mommy Brain is an off-shoot of Exhaustion-Induced Brain Fog. It hits hardest towards the end of the first month with a new baby. You still feel the euphoria of having that beautiful little person in your arms, but not enough to feel bright-eyed at 1am. And 4am. And 7am.

No, we haven't had another six hour stretch of sleep since Friday night. How could you tell?

It just occurred to me that this blog was started as a way to combat my last case of Mommy Brain. Cooper was almost two months old when I wrote my first post about needing to exercise my brain.

I am still committed to posting something every week day. But I can't make any promises that anything I write will make much sense between now and, oh, I don't know, January? March maybe?

Aren't you glad you read my blog?

The Can-Can

Yesterday my Grandma and I canned five quarts of peaches (in addition to the dozen we did last week). And we made and canned ten pints of applesauce (after Isaac cored the apples). And I made three dozen muffins.

Paige and Isaac took turns playing with the boys and I carried Phoebe in the Bjorn.

And now I'm really tired.

But our food storage is looking better.

Wonder of Wonders, Miracle of Miracles

Friday night something wonderful happened. Phoebe slept for six hours straight.

In her own bed.

And I slept for five of those hours.

It's shocking how refreshed I felt after only sleeping for one to three hours stretches for almost a month. She's been getting better about sleeping in her bed, but this is the longest snooze so far. And then, after she ate, she slept for another three hours. That's eight hours of sleep for this usually bleary-eyed mom.

I got up on Saturday and felt so good I went ahead and made a triple batch of waffles. Yeah, it was kind of overkill and I was pretty tired by the end of the first session of General Conference (although that has more to do with wrangling the big brothers than making breakfast), but wow, it was nice to have energy again.

Field Trip: Temple

Out Like a Light

One of Phoebe's most impressive traits is that she can sleep through the wild and crazy sounds her big brothers make while they're playing. Maybe if we let the boys run amok from dusk till dawn she would sleep through the night. Of course, then someone would have to stay up with the boys, so that would defeat the purpose of getting her to sleep.

I've Been Riding on the Railroad

We had the opportunity to ride this train with some friends from our neighborhood. The fellow that built and runs it does it for fun. The track ran through his yard, his kids' yards, and a handful of his neighbor's yards. It was pretty impressive.

Sadly, Peter didn't get to go because he threw a massive tantrum a few minutes before we were supposed to leave the house. Thank goodness Isaac and Grandma Bonnie could stay home with him.

Cooper had fun and Phoebe slept the whole time, so it was a win for everyone that went.

Three to One

Bryan asked me today if I've thought at all about how I'm going to take care of all three kids when it's just me by myself, with no extra family members here to help.

Why yes, yes I have.

I had a preview of what life is going to be like when that happens. Bryan had to go back to work on the day that Paige, Isaac, and my Grandma Bonnie drove up from California, which meant that during their twelve hour drive, I was on my own.

Most of the day went really well. We didn't try to go anywhere and I let Peter watch episodes of Go Diego Go on Netflix so I could take a nap while Cooper napped. (My doctor insisted that I have a nap everyday, no matter what. I laughed, then said I would do my best to comply.) Bryan was due back at 5pm and at 4pm I thought to myself that we had had a pretty good day.

And that's when the crazy broke loose.

When Bryan walked in the door I told him I was glad we had all made it in one piece. And I was serious. Peter and Cooper decided to make up for how good they had been for most of the day. I have no idea why 4pm is the bewitching hour at our house. Most of the naughtiness consisted of ignoring me when I asked them to do (or not to do) certain things.

I wonder, why is it that I can ask them to do something and they act like I'm not talking but Bryan can ask them to do the same thing and they listen? They might not obey right away, but at least they acknowledge him. What is the magic power that dads have that moms don't? Or is this something specific to my household?

I'm still thinking about how I'm going to handle things next week when it's just me and the three kids. Will I ever get dressed before lunchtime? Will we ever leave the house? Any ideas for maintaining sanity, both mine and theirs?

No Pictures, Please

Phoebe and I went to Sacrament Meeting yesterday. My goal was to wait a few more weeks before going back, but the primary was singing and I didn't want to miss that. So we got ourselves all gussied up and went. I wanted to take pictures of the very cute first Sunday dress that Nana Shari got for her, but based on her pose, I don't think she wanted me to.

Getting to Know You

Phoebe and Grandma Bonnie have been spending the last few days getting to know each other. I think they've become fast friends.

Catching Some Zzzzs